


Important

by letsgobacktoMidnight



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Genji loses an arm, One Shot, Pining, Pre-Relationship, SYMMENJI, slight body horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsgobacktoMidnight/pseuds/letsgobacktoMidnight
Summary: Genji gets hurt in battle, but he doesn't expect her at his bedside when he wakes up.





	Important

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a while and wanted to do some Symmenji. My tumblr is hackthehighnoon.tumblr.com if you wanna say hi.

It’s perhaps for the best that his body is made of metal and synthetic muscle. All the injuries he’s endured, both foolishly and heroically, have done a great amount of damage. Mostly wounds that would take too much time to heal, and leave permanent marks of their presence. The prosthetics, however, are easy to repair. Dr. Ziegler is truly a miracle worker. It must take all her strength to not rebuke him each time he comes to her with a missing arm or leg.

Just his right arm is damaged this time. Bullets shredded the appendage to where it dangled off his body with only a few wires connecting. It had happened too quickly for him to register before leaping out of the way. He was distracted by her voice…

She was just off to his side, setting up a turret against a building wall. The unease lodging in his soul since they both stepped on the ship together has been putting him on edge. Looking at her caused it to simultaneously spike and deflate. Her dark hair was free and gently swept by the wind, trailing down her back like a black waterfall.

Peace is easy for him to find, but that mission was different. His confidence in his shurikens and sword wasn’t faltering, but something else pressed against his rib cage. Trailing his gaze over the white pieces attached to her headset, framing her blue visor and shielding her eyes, they shared a look. Her stare steady and unwavering.

Her lips parted, calling his name, a warning. The sharp desperation in her voice shifted his focus to her, instead of the enemy behind him. Sharp panic slashed through his soul at her being in danger. She had conjured a shield with her hands as she ran towards him, preventing life threatening damaged but a few second too late to protect his arm. Even too late to catch a bullet hitting his face helm. It was dark for a moment, before her steady touch was at his shoulders. Helping him away.

Symmetra has come to be someone of great importance to him. A friend during the last few weeks. The roots of her deep concern and crinkled brow as they made it back to the watchpoint was plain to see. Her closeness as she escorted him to Dr. Ziegler was pressing against his brain. She stayed, until Dr. Ziegler told her he needed rest.  

And now he awakes. His mind believes that, she too, finds him to be just as important.

She does not notice his open eyes. The chair she resides in rests slightly in the corner, between the bed and the wall. Her hair falls like a curtain. Hiding her face as her fingers dance in her lap. White metal and blue painted nails swirl in small motions as light finally registers in his brain.

A small, fragmented design of blue light flutters. Wings, on a small cylinder insect body. Her palms settle, open and hover just under the hard-light creation. The softest breath leaves her body, making her shoulders rise and fall with the gentlest motion. The fatigue emits from her form.

“Miss Vaswani?” His voice rustles the silence as he sits up. Turning her head, she looks at him. Her eyes widen and lips part in an ‘O’ shape at the sudden disturbance. Quickly though, she regains her composure and flickers the hard-light creatures away with a snap of her fingers. Brushing her hair back as he shifts on the bed, she seems to steel herself.

“Genji.” She says, the smallest angle to her brow displaying the cause of her stay. The brown irises hold him still as she goes over him, as if once again checking his condition. “I’m glad to see you awake.”

Shifting once again, the side of his face presses into the fabric of the pillow. The contact on his skin makes his eyes grow wide at the vulnerability he now resides in. Without the metallic visor, Symmetra can see his scars and marks. All the wrong doings upon his skin.

A lightning strike of fear blinds his mind of any coherent thoughts. She is the one person who makes his heart settle, and race. She is the star in the sky that always holds his eyes. The creative, kind and intelligent being he finds loving in every way.

Someone who has become quite important.

She sits in her seat, awkward and confused at his startling reaction.

“I’m sorry, I just—I can leave, if you want me to.” She says, tilting on the edge of her seat. Both arms, metallic and flesh, ready to push herself up and out of the room.

“No,” he reaches a hand out, but isn’t able to touch her due to the space between them. “No, you don’t have to… if you don’t want to.” The initial fear is brushed aside by the chance of her leaving. He tries to quieten down as he brings his one remaining arm back to his chest. Doing his best to not cover his exposed face.

“I don’t mind you staying, I just don’t have my face helm.” His eyes glance away at this, though she surely knows this long before he was even awake.

“Oh, Genji…” Her soft voice makes him pause. As delicate as one of the butterfly wings she’s just crafted. Her gaze tilts away from his in not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable and she speaks again.

“Your face helm was damaged. A fracture cracked through the visor and down the side... It’s fortunate that it didn’t harm your face.” She breathes. 

The distraction from his open scars shifts in her lap. His face helm. Silver and cool metal as he’s always known, except for the blue light trailing down the center. It fills the fracture in his visor. A seamless, perfect fix that makes the gray metal look beautiful designed along with the hard-light repair.

With her head bowing to the ground, she stands. Carefully holding the face helm with her blue nail polish and white metallic fingers, she places it in his one remaining hand. All the while avoiding his face.

“My apologies, Genji. It wasn’t my intent to make you feel vulnerable without your face mask. Dr. Ziegler told me your face helm would have to be reconstructed, but that would take some time.”

She turns, looking to the door but keeping the side of her face opened to his gaze. Dark eyelashes nearly touch her cheekbones as she looks to the ground. The face plate feels warm in his grasp. Though the feeling comes through synthetic wires, it feels like her. A soft light filling the cracks in his life.

“I hoped you would prefer to have a face helm for the time being, until Torbjörn could provide you with your new one,” she gently whispers.

He breathes out, looking at her back and hiding hair. The women who has become of great importance, is worrying of his comfort. Going as far as to fix his face helm so he can freely roam instead of staying hidden in his room. She sees his scars, and only looks away for _his_ sake.

“Miss Vaswani.” He shifts on the bed, causing it to creak and jolt, but gets his body into an upright position. “This a very kind gift you have given me. The craftsmanship is always beautiful from your hands.”

He swallows, carefully measuring his next words. “Please don’t feel like you must leave.” The plea leaves his exposed lips. Half metal and half flesh. All but begging her to stay, because of her shining eyes and soft words and kind hands.  

Still as a statue, her form keeps looking to the ground.

Suppressing the sharp emotion that arises at making the moment more tense than necessary, he clutches the face plate. Lifting it to his eyes, he remembers his lost right arm.

He can’t place it on without both hands.

It’s quiet, even both of their breathing is nearly silent, until she turns her head. Her dark hair follows the movement, draping like a waterfall down her back as she shifts. Long, impossible dark eyelashes hide her eyes as she almost looks at him.

“I can get Dr. Ziegler to help you…” She speaks so softly it’s as if she’s trying to not wake a sleeping infant. “Or… I can, if you wish.”

He opens his mouth almost immediately, “Yes.”

Breathing out as she turns to face him, she lowers herself on the edge of his bed. The sudden closeness and warmth nearly makes his shoulders let loose stream. Holding out the fixed metal mask, he waits for her hands to gently take it in hers. Blue nail polish and white metallic fingers balance it carefully in her grasp.

It’s a leap of courage, but they lift their eyes together. Sharing a gaze that holds him in her dark eyes for an eternity, he wonders.

What does she think about him? Does she think about him at all? How important is he to her?

Trailing her hand along his jaw bone, almost to where his ears would be, she finds the latch. Her warm hand sends a shiver through his soul, but he keeps still. The scars on his face must be imperfect and askew, nothing her beauty should behold. 

“Here?” She asks, her eyes steady and her breathing calm as he focuses. The touch of her hand remains constant, but light.

“Yes, right there,” he reassures her. The bed creaks with both their weight as she leans forward, carefully sliding the helm into place with a small click.

He blinks, and doesn’t even register the fixed crack in the helm. Perfect, as she always is. She still leans forward, hands hovering as she waits for his response.

“Thank you, Miss Vaswani.” He breathes, and her shoulders fall into a more relaxed position.

“Of course, Genji,” she speaks, standing. One hand brushes her black hair back down, fingers trailing through a wild strand. Her body turns half away, ready to go out the door. A wild, desperate part of him doesn’t want to see her disappear.

“As I said before, please don’t feel like you have to leave.”

Her eyes lift, holding him carefully in a way she does not comprehend. One moment passes, before she exhales. Tugging the chair closer, she settles down beside him. Her eyes no longer afraid to look at him.

“It seems I enjoy your company, Genji,” She says, igniting his soul with a glimpse of a smile.

“How fortunate can one man be?” He questions, and watches her smile grow by a fraction.


End file.
